


Any One’s Mystery Mail

by NothingToDoWithMe



Series: Anything [1]
Category: The Goodies (TV), The Goodies RPF
Genre: F/M, Humor, Implied/Referenced BDSM, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, In-Jokes, Metafiction, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Referenced Messy, Secret Admirer, Smoking, referenced golden showers, referenced oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingToDoWithMe/pseuds/NothingToDoWithMe
Summary: A sizzling script by a mystery fan has turned up at Roger Hancock Ltd. Brian calls in his clients Bill and Graeme for a private readthrough.





	Any One’s Mystery Mail

**Scene: Brian Codd’s smoky office. Brian perches conspiratorially on the front of his desk, watching as his clients Bill (B) & Graeme (G), seated in swivel chairs in just front of him, read through two similar scripts. They are laughing occasionally but also looking rather hot under the collar. **

B: [Taking cheroot out of his mouth.] By gum, this is inventive! Though I don’t suppose Liz would be up for filming a sequel like this, do you, eh?

Brian: I’m afraid not. She’s broadminded, not depraved! Slightly beyond Carry On, isn’t it?

B: I’ll say! [Wolfwhistles.] Plays exactly as we described it, though, you must admit; ‘be-au-ti-ful, but very tiring’!

G: Exactly. Never mind the quality, feel the weight.

Brian: Yes, it took me ages making your copy, Graeme. Sorry about the mistakes; my typing’s rotten. Still, better that than let the old secretary see it, eh? Good job the envelope was marked ‘Personal and Private’ or she’d have opened it!

G: Indeed. The fewer people who read this, the better, I’d say. We men really didn’t know what we were starting, did we, giving women equality?

Brian: You don’t think a girl actually wrote this, do you? It’s obscene! Miss K’s just a character in the story, surely – so it’s merely a nom de plume.

G: No, I meant that our original premise—

B: [Talking over him.] No, not a girl, mate. [Tapping pages with his finger to add emphasis.] This is the work of a red-blooded woman! [Grins.] And I mean to find out who she is and where she lives! [Puts fingertips on mouth.] Could do worse than start looking in Camberley…

Brian [shrugging and spreading hands]: Sorry, there’s only a PO Box. Pretty much uncrackable, unless you want to get the police involved.

G: No, thank you.

B: No fear!

Brian: And the stationery and typewriter aren’t at all unusual, before you ask, Sherlock. Anyway, [wags finger at Bill] aren’t you happily married?

B: You’re half right. Joke, joke!! No, I’d just like to communicate my appreciation of ‘Miss K’s’ sense of humour, that’s all.

G: By which you don’t mean proposing her for a Writers’ Guild award, I’ll bet!

Bill chuckles filthily.

B: Oh, dear. You’ve rumbled me.

G: And you with a second responsibility on the way. Behave yourself, man!

B: Sorry. But then I obviously like misbehaving, don’t I? Eh! [Elbows Grae.] I mean, with Jean? [Soppy grin.]

G: [Drily] Ah! Love’s young dream.

The partition being thinner than the men realise, their more spirited remarks are clearly audible in the outer office. The bespectacled secretary stationed near the door frowns as she files her nails.

Brian: Now, come on, guys. It has to be by a man! [Lowering his voice.] It reads like fucking porn!

B: [Not bothering to lower his voice at all; in fact, raising it.] And you think women don’t do porn? Wake up, man, it’s 1971!

Brian lifts his eyes to the topless stunner on his calendar and smiles. If he could manage to focus on the year for once…yes, it’s 1971 alright.

B: Now, look. The plain fact is that our mystery author is unhinged enough to find fat little Goody Bill attractive; that much is obvious by the flattering tone, d’you see? Every girl perversely preferring me to the other, far more attractive ‘wolves’, my having unfeasible stamina, and so on. Although…she – OK, maybe he – also likes teasing me a bit…but, hey, that’s groovy!

Graeme raises an eyebrow.

B: Anyway, my point is: true though it is that loonies of either sex might find me equally fascinating for some unfathomable reason, the story can’t have been written by a male admirer because; would a nancy-boy write about me having it off with birds, eh? In such loving detail too – phwoarrrr, thank you, thank you… [Reading again.] Cor! Oh, Sugar—!

G: No, I have to disagree. A perfectly masculine bloke – [witheringly] who’s not in love with you, Bill – might have produced this story as a wish-fulfilment. You would be favourably portrayed purely due to the fact that he is living out his fantasies vicariously through your TV character.

B: But—

G: And there are several reasons why a heterosexual man might send it to our agent: a simple desire to gain attention; an attempt to break into blue movies, perhaps; lack of love as a child; obsession with his weight or lack of stature… You sure it wasn’t you, Bill?

B: You can bugger off!

Graeme laughs wickedly. Bill tuts.

B: But, Grae! How about the endless eating-out? Doesn’t that just scream ‘feminine POV’ to you?

G: Pff! Lockjaw is what it screams to me. But I grant you it would be the only way to satisfy all those raving dollies – for a squirt like you, I mean, hem-hem. [Crosses his long legs, makes use of his ashtray.]

B: [Sing-song] Oh, I’ll ignore that; I’m having far too much fun! [Reads on, inhaling again and spinning his chair this way and that.] Yeah, you see; here, relieving the new mum’s engorged tits, this adult baby business, the trippy dream sequence – kinky, yes, titillating, rather, but far too slow and psychoanalytical for a man; he’d want to get on with the sex. Deep! Female-focussed! Woman; QED! Actually, that bit’s pretty unsettling…[turns leaf hastily]. Although I’ll grant you, the lesbian show could equally be a guy’s fantasy; they’re two-a-penny. And spanking? – meuh, totally run-of-the-mill. (Sad waste of good trifle, that…) P’r’aps she put those numbers in for me, eh? [Strokes moustache and smiles fondly.] Very kind of her.

G: Lord save us, he’s infatuated. But, Bill, by that logic—

B: [Leaning back in chair.] Blimey, looks like I’ve settled in for the night! It’s a lock-in! And a love-in. [Happily flicks more pages.]

G: Oh, never mind. He’s gone.

B: Mmm, you haven’t got a Mars Bar on you, have you? [Licks his lips, grins and turns another page.] Bloody hell! Golden showers, eh? That’s a bit advanced. [Turns more pages.]

G: [Riffling furiously.] Where’s that? I think you’re ahead of me.

B: Oh, that was page sixty-WOAH! This scene with Heifer’s dynamite! I knew that whip would get a certain audience sector going, Grae. [Papers shake in Bill’s hand as he reads avidly for a minute, emitting no comments except a grunt now and then. He fidgets and gets up, seeming somewhat uncomfortable.] Oof! Um, I just remembered an urgent appointment, sorry guys, see you later…

Brian: Oy, you’re not taking that script out of this office!

B: [Exasperated] Thought you said you had a copy?

Brian: Just the one I’ve given Grae. Wait a moment, please, Bill; we haven’t decided what to do, yet.

Bill sits again, rather crossly. Brian stubs out his cigarette.

Brian: So, just to be clear: neither of you wrote this drivel?

G: Well, obviously I didn’t, or I’d’ve given myself some girlie action, wouldn’t I? [Tosses his copy on the floor in disgust.] Or at the very least, more lines.

B: Ha-haa! It was you who left me behind in the Pussy Club so it’s your own fault, Grae!

G: [With a dismissive wave at rejected script.] She even gave you a comedy fall into the dustbins!

B: Yes, I know. [Modestly tries not to smile, adopts theatrical tone.] I hope you won’t let it come between us, darling! Remember, I didn’t commission the damn thing! [Diplomatically:] Maybe that was a veiled gesture to your absent genius?

Graeme looks as though he’d like to give it a gesture of his own.

B: [More seriously] Now, come on, both of you; I may be a loudmouth but you know I’m not vain. So why on earth would I send something like this – using my own name for the lead character, mark you – to my own agent? Even if I had written it, which I honestly didn’t. Although, I might as well admit it now; I did try to write this bit, once we’d wrapped Series One: just for my own amusement! Gave up in the end; too many characters.

Brian: Too much like hard work for no pay, you mean? No wonder you’re happy to have this!

B: Indeed! Ta very much, whoever you are; you’ve done a grand job – they ask top dollar in Soho for this kind of ‘drivel’, I can tell you! [Hugs it to his chest.] Oh, yes! ‘Anything Playful’ is destined to end up dogeared and grubby.

G: Like you?

B: Don’t try that! You modelled the wolf ears, too, you know! And the heart-shaped chestwig, and the pervy padlock! We have it on tape, Grae, plus photos; there’s no denying it! Hey, talking of fur, I really dig the bit where the girls surround me and threaten to shave my – where is it… [flicking to search again from the start]. Can you imagine a guy coming up with that? Well, maybe if he were a masochist…

G: You wish they’d gone through with it too, don’t you? Kinky devil! And I bet you really got off on the blindfold and the full-body soaping.

Bill corpses. He can’t deny it.

B: Ooh, they are very naughty hens!

Brian: So, to sum up, do you want me to find this loony fan and send her a Cease and Desist?

G&B in chorus: NO!  
B [trailing off plaintively]: She might write me some more…

Graeme rolls his eyes.

B: [Wheedling:] Weeell, would you try and have a teensy look for her, Bri? Just on the QT, you understand; then I can personally make sure she hasn’t sent this thing anywhere else.

Brian: [Sternly] I don’t think that’s a good idea. The covering letter assured us she hadn’t, remember?

B: [Sigh.] I suppose we’ll have to trust in that.

G: We’ll soon find out if she was lying [grimaces].

B: [Disturbed.] Oh, shit, I do hope she’s sensible. Imagine if this ever reached Television Centre – we’d never be able to convince anyone we hadn’t written it ourselves! The ‘as-broadcast’ was very near the knuckle as it was; just think if John – or Michael (God forbid!) – caught sight of this supplementary!

They all blench.

B: I mean; it’s even got certain substances in it.

The others laugh.

G: Silly Billy. Yes, a little light orgy would go unnoticed but don’t, for heavens’ sake, let them think we’re partial to the odd hash cake!

Bill gives in and laughs, a little petulantly.

B: Oh, please don’t tease me. [A revelation hits Bill. His face contorts suddenly. He speaks with difficulty.] Hey, guys…I’ve just had a really wicked idea!

Brian & G: What?

B: LET’S SEND A COPY TO MARY WHITEHOUSE!

_Short interlude whilst all fall about, laughing uproariously until tears come to their eyes._

At her desk, Miss Hill scans through her small pile of filing, checking it’s in alphabetical order. For the third time.

G: Bill! Do you mind?

Brian: [Long-suffering.] It’s OK, I’ll open a window.

B [Squeaks, tears still running down his face]: It’d finish her off for good, that’s for sure!

Brian: Oh, don’t tempt me! [Opens window and gasps in fresh air.]

Returning to sit on the desk, Brian wipes his eyes and pores over the covering letter again whilst his clients get their breath back.

B: Yes, that note didn’t say much else, did it? What was it – ‘Dear Goodies, you seem to have left a bit out of your otherwise swinging story so I’ve taken the liberty of filling it in’? Ha-hah, I’d fill her in, all right, saucy minx, if I found her! Assuming she is female, of course.

G: [Playfully:] Even it turns out to be Mollie?

B: Aargh! [Half-laughing, half worried.] Hadn’t considered her! No, wait, there’s an Iggy Pop reference somewhere – don’t know if you picked that up, Grae – so it’s definitely a younger woman. Phew. [Nervously rubs hair.] Here, d’you think any of our lovely extras might have written it?

G: I doubt it, Bill. Those girls didn’t seem like the literary type, nice though they were, if you see what I mean. And, sorry to break it to you, love, but I don’t think a single one of them fancied you!

B: [Ruefully] I know, I know. Ooh, wait, this must narrow it down, though – whoever it is knows I’m into birdwatching! That’s not exactly common knowledge, is it?

They all sit and ponder for a bit. No-one has any ideas, unless it’s one of their wives playing an elaborate prank. Who’d be fool enough to ask, though?

G: [Frowning] Could it be some kind of misguided blackmail attempt?

B: [Scoffs.] Come off it, mate! It’s not real, remember? [Leers.] Although, hey, I certainly wish this bit were! [Locates a favourite passage again and laughs.] Great use of the tail in this scene, love the visuals. [Closes his eyes and makes juddering movements with his body.] ‘Woof, woof, wa-hey!’ Ha-haaa! [Going high-pitched with delight.]

Brian [getting up off desk]: Right. Bill’s obviously in love with his epic, X-rated fan letter, so he can take the oh-so-alluring original for his own – ahem – usage and I’ll retain the copy, if you don’t mind, Grae. For legal reasons. [Holds hand out.] I could always get another made, if you want one?

G: No – no, thanks [picks it up and hands it over]. It doesn’t float my boat, somehow [pointed look at Bill]. What _can_ they see in you, shortarse? Must have a powerful microscope.

Bill peeps at him impishly over the top of the pages.

Graeme gets up and clasps Brian’s hand, looking him in the eye.

G: Well, I know you’ll keep schtum, Bri. You’ve never let us down yet, have you? Bye-bye, give my regards to Roger!

Jenny Hill moves smoothly across to the filing cabinet on the far side of the office, clutching her small sheaf of copy letters. She eases a drawer open, extremely quietly.

Graeme yanks Bill, who’s still reading, out of his chair and steers him to Brian’s door.

G: For Pete’s sake, Bill, have the good sense not to leave that filth lying around just anywhere, Chez Oddie, won’t you?  

B: Mmm.

Ushered by Brian, the writers emerge into the outer office, Bill’s nose still in the fascinating script.

G: [Tersely] Put it away!

B: Aw, not yet, this is a good bit.

As they reach the outer door, Graeme turns back and gently slaps the back of his slow-moving friend’s head.

G: Big head.

B: [Absently, gruff voice.] Yes, thank you.

G: You’ll crash that Mini! Or go deaf…

With an almost undetectable movement, Miss Hill silently observes the pair as they go out. Brian, standing at his office door, considers his secretary. The very opposite of a raver. Went to a good school; efficient; so conscientious, often coming in early or staying late – apparently doesn’t drink, let alone frequent nightclubs. Dresses dowdily; ever quiet and reliable…

Oh, heck. She’s blushing.

Brian: Er, Miss Hill, I hope our meeting wasn’t too disturbing for you?

J: Not at all, Mr Codd.

She carries on filing the last few items and her colour settles somewhat. Brian wonders how to ascertain whether she overheard anything scandalous without alerting her unnecessarily but is having trouble coming up with the right phrasing. This is why he gave up trying to write and became an agent, he recalls. Probably for the best. Ah, well, she can’t have heard much, way over there, could she?

_Jenny’s thoughts: He’s wondering how to debrief me, isn’t he? He only tried that once, at the Christmas party. I soon told him where to get off. Not my type. I’ll let him stew; it’ll be fun. It’s hilarious how he thinks I’m ‘untouched by human hand’._

Brian: Been at the filing cabinet for long?

J: Yes, sir, quite a time. There was a lot. In fact, I have a stack of letters ready for you to sign now, here we are – would you, please? And then I can get them into today’s post. Thank you ever so much.

Brian sits at her desk and quickly checks and signs his correspondence. No mistakes, as usual. Meanwhile, his secretary folds and seals the signed letters into their typed envelopes.

Brian: Jenny—sorry, Miss Hill—

J: Yes, Mr Codd?

Brian gets his wallet out and hands her a fiver.

Brian: Would you like to buy some fresh flowers for the office? And you can keep the change – buy yourself a new dress or something, eh?

Jenny: Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that. I’ll bring it back for petty cash.

Brian: [Desperately] Well, then, how about…I don’t know…

He looks around her desk for inspiration and notices a dusty volume. The title seems to be in some language he doesn’t know.

Brian: How about a new book, then? You seem to love reading.

Jenny is about to refuse again – she in fact borrows her books from a library; one with a rather esoteric reserve collection, for which she has had to devise an alternative identity as a medical student – but thinks better of it. She could now afford to send off for that intriguing clothing she saw advertised in the back of a certain magazine that she hides inside People’s Friend.

Jenny: Thank you very much, Sir. I think I might fancy something fresh.

She accepts the note with a polite smile, runs the letters through the franking machine, and goes out. The walk to the Post Office is long enough to allow some welcome thinking time.

On her return, Miss Hill mechanically puts the fresh flowers – yellow, so cheerful – in water, then calmly sits and makes some urgent notes for her next story at the back of her shorthand pad. That impish Miss K character seems to have taken on new life with all the appreciation from the Master earlier today, and is suddenly having more and more outrageous ideas for toying with Goody-Bill.

In her own personal shorthand, she writes her chosen title, ‘Anything Double-Dipped’, and thoughtfully sucks her mischievous HB. What a dear little Honey-Bum indeed. Dear little ‘Anything that turns him on’; that’s her Buzzy Bumble poppet, all over.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired, obviously by Bill and Graeme's notorious 'Playgirl Club' Goodies episode. Like Bill, I'm finding the actual story rather slow to get to grips with, so I thought I'd give you this meta to be getting on with. (Full of cliche, I know. Well, Hong Kong Phooey was 1970s, wasn't it?) I also have the Double Dipped story in development but it will have to wait until after Playful is thrashed out (ooer). Don't hold your breath! There might be a couple of other imaginings almost ready for release into the wild soon, though.  
> P.S. I know the proper term for Bill's hobby is 'birding': I used the more generally-understood term 'birdwatching' to avoid any misinterpretation.


End file.
